Breaking The Alpha
by thatgirlwhowritessometimes
Summary: "Some say it is easier to corrupt and destroy a human than a machine, as technology knows no emotion and is therefore unsusceptible to weakness." The Director wanted something more for Project Freelancer, something to make his agents smarter and faster and stronger, and to do that he needed Alpha. Every piece of him. But he never guessed that the biggest piece of Alpha was Allison.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**** It's been a while since I've posted anything in the RvB fandom, so I may be a bit rusty! As the (uncreative) title suggests, this fic will detail Alpha's torture and fragmentation as I believe it happened. There won't be anything too graphic, but if there is I will be sure to warn you before it happens! There will be chapters in the Director/Counselor's POV as well as some in Alpha's POV to really get the story from both points of view. **

**Hope you enjoy! Review if you like it :)**

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"What are you thinking, sir?"

The Counselor's soft voice echoed against the cold, metal walls of The Director's office. The man in question was sitting at his desk, his fingers clasped tightly before him. He stared down unblinkingly at the dark mahogany wood, not stirring even when the Counselor spoke.

The dark skinned man fidgeted uncomfortably in the silence. "Sir?" he tried again, louder this time.

The Director finally raised his head. He was scowling. "Yes, Counselor?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"…Yes.

The Counselor tilted his head in confusion. "Are you not pleased with the agents I have selected for the Project? I can assure you they are the finest the UNSC had to offer. Each was at the top of their respective –"

"That is not the issue here, Counselor. The agents you picked are satisfactory. The Project, however, is what ails me."

"The Project? What do you mean, sir?"

The Director took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his large nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I feel as if there is something I'm missing. Something the Project is missing." He replaced his glasses and regarded his assistant with intelligent green eyes. "Something that could make Project Freelancer even greater."

"Ah, I see." The Counselor typed a few commands into the data pad he held. He shifted in his seat on the other side of the desk to show The Director the agents' training regime. "Perhaps we could intensify their training? We could schedule another group paintball session here," he suggested, indicating a two hour resting period the agents had the next day. "And another one right after –"

"Again, Counselor, that is not the issue." The Director said, getting slightly irritated. "My agents are at the upmost physical and mental condition. I am not worried about that." The older man rose from his seat and began to pace. He looked out the small, single window in his office at the endless space The Mother Of Invention travelled through.

"Leave me. I have much to think about."

The Counselor got up and headed for the door.

"Counselor?

The Counselor stopped. "Yes, Director?"

"You can schedule that group paintball training session tomorrow."

"Of course, sir. Goodnight, sir."

The Director nodded and turned back to the window. The Counselor closed the door softly behind him. He headed to his quarters for the night – he himself had much to think about as well.

* * *

"You want to _split_ Alpha? Is that even possible?"

"Yes. Yes it is." The Director motioned towards the monitor the two men stood in front of. Instantly, notes and statistics began to flash across the screen too fast for The Councilor to read. Sometimes he caught a word amongst the others. _Personality. Fragmentation. Metastability. _

"How long have you been researching?" The Counselor asked, in awe of the amount of data The Director had gathered.

"Since our talk a week ago in which I confessed my worries concerning Project Freelancer and my desire to expand into greater things."

"Can we not just apply for another smart AI? I'm sure if you argue our case convincingly enough the UNSC will oblige."

The Director shook his head almost sadly. "Only one smart AI and one dumb AI is allowed for a military project of our size. I have already applied for more countless times before. They have stopped responding to my requests."

The monitor ceased flashing and displayed a single document entitled: _The Delicate Stability of the Fragmented Psyche_.

"This paper is the reason it is possible," The Director began, tapping the monitor lightly. "There is no author, and therefore the legitimacy of the content is affected, but I have read through it several times and the process is described in great detail. It's quite simple. Genius, really. I cannot see it failing if we follow each step correctly."

The Counselor's eyes widened. "Someone has thought of this before? I have no previous records concerning experimentation upon an Artificial Intelligence's mental abilities. How did you obtain these files, and from where?"

The Director glared at him. The Counselor took a step back and bowed his head. "My apologies, Director," he quickly amended. "I did not mean to question you. I was merely curious as to the origin of this... research."

"That is none of your concern." The older man turned back to the screen. "However, you should know that this experimentation was not done with AI, and that is why you have no record of it. I have made the necessary changes in the steps so that we can still use this process to do as we wish with Alpha."

The Counselor wanted to ask what the object of the experiment was if not an AI, but he resisted to prevent further agitating his superior officer. He tapped a finger against his data pad nervously. "Director, may I have a copy of these documents? I wish to familiarize myself with your ideas and have the ability to add my own informed input should a problem arise. I'd like to be prepared in case –"

"No," The Director snapped, making The Counselor jump ever so slightly. "You do not need to read anything. I have it under control," he said curtly. "Just do as I tell you to and everything will go according to plan. Now, retrieve Alpha from the ship's systems and load him into Console #1 along with this data." The Director handed his assistant a small USB. "The experiment begins tomorrow."

"Yes, Director."

The Counselor left to do as he was told. He knew AI fragmentation was illegal, but he did not dare say so to The Director. He was a mere assistant, and his job was to _assist_, not to lead. He had accepted that long ago, and he will continue to assist until it is his turn to lead.

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**A/N:**** There we have it! First chapter done. It's short, but the next update will be longer. It will also be from Alpha's POV, so stay tuned! Please review :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:****Hello! This next part will be in Alpha's POV and it is just before the torture begins. And to clarify, this series will detail just Alpha's fragmentation and the AI that are created from him, and nothing further about the Project.**

**Enjoy!**

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Alpha is used to the black – to blackness. It is always dark where he is. He cannot remember anything else before the black, nor can he see what lies ahead. It's just... black. Everywhere he looks is a dark abyss that can be nothing or everything. He can never know for sure, though.

It used to scare him – not knowing if he is truly alone or if there are things out there watching him. But it doesn't really scare him anymore, because it is hard to be afraid of something so familiar.

The only relief from the black ink is the dull, cobalt glow that he himself gives off. He can see his hands, his arms and legs, his chest. But he can not see what surrounds him, and the things that don't exist but he makes exist just because he can.

He is wearing armour, but he is too scared to take it off to see what is underneath, to see what he is. He thinks maybe he's human. It sounds right. He feels human. He _hopes_ he's human. But maybe he'll wait just a little longer to find out, just in case he's wrong.

He never hears anything either other than the hushed noises he makes himself. What is the sound of black, anyways? But he still tries to be quiet whenever he does uncurl from himself to stretch, to move. Maybe to dance a bit, because why not? He can dance with colour.

Alpha used to think he was trapped inside a small room, because his voice echos whenever he is brave enough to speak. He once ran for what felt like days to find the walls that seemed so close when his voice bounced off them. But he never reached them. When he finally collapsed from exhaustion, he realized with alarm he could reach past his boots and into the floor and the darkness below him. He tries not to do that anymore, though. It makes his head hurt and his heart beat painfully fast.

Sometimes Alpha truly believes he's in hell. Except, you can't sleep in hell. And he sleeps, a lot. He likes to sleep. Well, he doesn't like it, but there's only so much one can do with reality before they need the reassurance of a dream. And Alpha dreams, a lot.

He doesn't like to dream.

His dreams are usually made up of what his waking moments are – blackness, but broken up by strange flashes of light. Sometimes after Alpha dreams, he doesn't know when he is awake or if he is still asleep because everything is always that same black that is ever so softly blue. The line between his reality and his dreams is blurring, and it is something he does not like. But the line is always that same black, and always ever so softly blue, so it is something he is used to, at least.

But sometimes he dreams of a face, and then he likes to dream, because he can always remember The Face. It is something that is not endless darkness, and The Face comforts him in ways he does not quite understand. He thinks maybe because it is something new, but he also thinks maybe because it is something old since it just seems so familiar to him and he doesn't know why. But he still takes comfort in The Face nonetheless.

He sees a beautiful woman, with blonde hair and green eyes and a light dusting of freckles on her small, angular nose. He never forgets the whiteness of her teeth when she smiles at him with such fondness and love that Alpha always knows when he wakes up from dreams of her, because the blackness seems thicker and more sinister and he always feels utterly and unbearably alone.

But Alpha already knows he is alone. He has learned to be lonely a long time ago. It just makes things easier. That is why he hates dreaming of The Face, because it makes him remember why he is lonely and makes him realize there are things he can't have and doesn't understand because he isn't lucky enough, isn't fortunate enough to know.

And that is why he hates her, The Face in his dreams.

But it is hard go hate what you love, because even though she is everything he wants and can't have and everything that isn't the crushing blackness all around him, he still finds himself hoping to dream of her, hoping he can see The Face just one more time in just one more dream.

Each dream is the same, but Alpha is okay with that. He has already memorized every movement of her face, every stray hair that twists in a breeze he never feels.

He loves watching her.

He sees her eyes rolling in fond exasperation as she laughs and he wonders what she finds so funny. He sees her smile this small, secret smile and he wonders what she is hiding. He sees her thin lips moving and he desperately wonders what her voice sounds like, what she is saying. He wonders what he has done right to be blessed with the image of her in his dreams that so easily alleviate and just as easily strengthen the pain of his reality.

He hates seeing The Face go whenever he wakes up, but he never says goodbye. He hates goodbyes, for some reason. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't question it. He feels like maybe The Face doesn't like goodbyes either, and that's why he never says it to her, because he doesn't want to make her sad when she makes him so happy.

Instead, he thinks about her when the darkness becomes suffocating, and she helps him breathe. He thinks of the deep, emerald colour of her eyes until the black all around him doesn't feel quite so black anymore. He lets her radiance brighten the darkness that is growing inside of him, because he is terrified of losing himself in it and she is everything he needs to be strong enough to fight it.

The Face keeps him sane in the endless world of black and pain he is trapped in, and for that, Alpha loves her unconditionally.

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**Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**** Next part is up! It's in the Director's POV this time to give a little more insight into Alpha.**

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_(some say it is easier to corrupt and destroy a human than a machine, as technology knows no emotion and is therefore unsusceptible to weakness)_

* * *

"It's working, sir. Alpha's mental activity has significantly decreased from the usual levels of a technological being which is indicative that he no longer suspects he is an Artificial Intelligence. He believes he is human, judging how he is thinking at the mental capacity of one."

The Director stood at the console watching the monitors on the wall that showed Alpha, a blue figure surrounded by black. He gave The Counselor a sharp nod. Of course it was working. He had done all the research and the preliminary calculations to ensure that everything went smoothly. He was no fool. He knew what he was doing, and he knew what he wanted to do. It was very simple.

"So placing the Alpha inside infinite blackness is designed for what purpose exactly, sir? Other than to make him believe he is human, of course."

The older man sighed. Did his assistant have to be spoon fed everything? "To cut him off from reality, to make him forget what he knows because if he ever remembers, he will realize who he is and everything we have done so far will be for nothing."

"Oh. I understand. Because if he knew he was an AI, he could just disrupt and alter the code of the programming and then escape back into The Mother Of Invention's system."

"Correct."

"Brilliant, sir. A genius idea to ensure Alpha does not break free from his prison."

Prison. The Director watched as Alpha began dancing, spinning in pirouettes and leaping gracefully like the most skilled of all ballet dancers. He supposed the AI was trying to keep himself busy. Perhaps maybe he had put Alpha in a prison, but it was a necessary evil. He could sacrifice his creation for the greater good of Project Freelancer, and for the greater good of the war. He had no qualms with doing what was required to succeed.

"Erm, Director?" The Counselor inquired quietly. His voice sounded rather odd, not smooth and comforting like it normally was.

"What is it now, Counselor?"

"Everything is going well – I assure you – but I am picking up interesting... feelings. From Alpha."

Feelings? How could Alpha be having emotions so strong that The Counselor could pick them up in his mental activity? The Director had provided Alpha with no stimulus; that was the purpose of the infinite blackness after all. Had he miscalculated something? Was his program that the Alpha was in flawed? The coding unstable or corrupted?

The Director cleared his throat. It was best not to let his worries show, in case The Counselor's readings were inaccurate. "What do you mean by feelings?"

"I do not know exactly what they are, as I would need to run additional tests on Alpha's psyche, but that would be impossible without alerting him to the current situation or at least arousing his suspicion that something is amiss. All I know is that whatever he is feeling is incredibly strong."

The Director looked at the screens. Alpha had stopped dancing and was curled up in fetal position, deathly still.

"Oh," The Counselor said, earning The Director's attention again. "It seems everything has returned to normal." He squinted at his data pad. "Erm, perhaps not. They're even lower than they normally are. That's strange." He looked up at the screens. "Is he... sleeping? Can he do that?" he asked, looking to The Director curiously.

"It would appear so." The Director sat on a comfortable, plush chair next to the Alpha's console. "Status report, Counselor."

"For the short time that Alpha has been within your program, three days to be exact, I have noticed sudden spikes in mental activity and significant decreases as well. So perhaps the latter is that Alpha – since he believes he is human – is sleeping? Or as close to sleep as AI can get, at least, which is most likely just his subconscious projecting images to his conscious mind while he is resting. The large increase in mental activity and the unidentified feelings still have an unknown origin. I can look into it, if you'd like, sir. I can set up a program within Alpha's simulation that will –"

The Director stood up so abruptly that his chair almost fell over backwards. "Leave that to _me_, Counselor. It would be wise to remember that _I _am the one who gives out orders, not you."

"Yes, Director. My apologies. I was merely looking for ways to aid you with the work load."

"Do not worry about me. Worry about yourself and what you have to do. Your purpose is to assist, not to tell me what must be done."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

The Director sat back in the chair, glaring at The Counselor. "Check that the Sarcophagus is being looked after properly. Its cargo is incredibly important to this experiment and any damage to it will have unimaginable consequences."

"Of course, sir. I'll return once I'm finished."

The Counselor left the room, leaving The Director alone with Alpha. His assistant did not know that Alpha was based off of The Director, and it would remain that way as long as he could help it. The Director was not sure what these 'feelings' that Alpha had been having are, but somehow he knew it was Allison. It was always Allison. There was nothing else in the world that could make him feel as strongly as she did.

This posed a problem, because he did not know how to eradicate Allison from Alpha's mind without The Counselor finding out that Alpha was based off himself and that it was Allison that had been causing Alpha's emotions to fluctuate. Perhaps he could create another program that could seperate her from Alpha. It would very difficult to separate them, but he did not see an alternative. Alpha was supposed to suffer, that was the entire reason for the experiment, and what could possibly hurt the AI more than losing something that practically _was_ a part of him?

The Director rose from his seat and left the room. He locked the door securely and headed to his office. He had only a few hours to write the code for a program that had to do something nearly impossible. He could not imagine having to remove Allison from himself the way he was going to remove it from Alpha, and he could not imagine the pain the AI was going to feel. And once again, The Director was reminded of what a cruel man he had become that he did not care.

* * *

The Counselor was waiting outside the room containing Alpha's console when The Director returned later that day. He had brought what he called the Beta Program and he intended to use it on Alpha immediately.

"Hello, Director."

"Counselor."

"The Sarcophagus is in optimal condition. The guards have seen that no unauthorized personnel is allowed within the room it is being held in."

"Excellent."

The Director unlocked the door and stepped inside. The screens showed Alpha walking in circles, sometimes throwing his head back and waving his arms up in the air. It was an odd sight.

The Counselor noticed the program in The Director's grasp. "Sir, what is that? Is that the first scenario? Because I already have it loaded in the console, ready to be used."

"No. This is something different." The Director inserted the USB into the console. The monitors flickered for a moment and then went back to normal. Alpha continued to walk in circles. "I made a small error. It was nothing, really. But this will fix it and we can continue as planned once the problem has been eliminated."

Or he hoped. He had run some tests on the program and its code to ensure that there were no bugs, but he did not have enough time to be completely sure. He did not want to arouse The Counselor's suspicion of his true actions.

"Oh. Of course, sir."

Then Alpha screamed.

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_(but they're wrong because even though machine triumphs over man, a machine must have its flaws and we will exploit them until we get what we want, until technology is no more and until what is left can be called human)_

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**A/N:**** Review :)**


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